


Bar Flies

by FunkyinFishnet



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Male Slash, Multi, Polyamory, Relationship(s), Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:05:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2434817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Roman work in a bar, fighting and fucking in equal measures. Then one night Seth walks into the bar and can’t stop staring at them. Roman trusts his gut instinct.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bar Flies

 

 

Dean was probably going to get into a fight with that customer. Roman kept an eye on the situation but didn’t move, not yet anyway. He liked watching Dean, even when he was being fucking troublesome. He’d probably pick a fight with Roman later, then they’d most likely fuck against the bartop or upstairs where Dean always crashed at the end of his shift.

 

Roman had no idea why Les kept Dean on as a barman; he didn’t exactly exude welcoming charm. Not that Roman was complaining, work would be a lot less interesting without Dean around. Roman would probably get less angry though, he’d thrown a fist at Dean only last Thursday. Dean had really gotten under his skin, talking about Roman’s family with a sly confrontational smile like he’d figured something out. Sometimes it was like Dean just got  bored  and so he started up on the nearest person, jabbing their buttons until they exploded. Roman violently reacted too often because Dean was persistent and Roman had a temper.Les didn’t mind all that much because Roman kept a hold of himself when working the door. It was just Dean that made him volatile. And Dean knew it.

 

The guy Dean was talking to was beginning to look irritated. Roman leaned purposefully against the nearby wall, knowing that Dean would catch the movement. Sure enough Dean bright gaze flicked over and then back again, his mouth drawing back into a grin that Roman had felt against his skin so many times. He and Dean spent most of their time arguing and fighting and fucking. They riled each other up and got the benefits later, even if they did it with bruises and split lips.

 

Less than twenty minutes later, Dean got punched in the face. Roman let them fight for a while because he knew that Dean enjoyed scrapping, then he waded in to pull the guy off of Dean and out of the door.

 

“That guy’s fucking nuts!” the ejected stranger exclaimed, back on his feet outside and looking irritated as he nursed his sore hand.

 

Roman hitched a shoulder up. True enough. Dean hadn’t thrown the first punch so Roman was doing his job.

 

“He doesn’t work Thursdays,” he said, because some people did deserve to drink in peace.

 

Dean was still grinning when Roman ducked back into the bar. In fact, Dean was licking blood away from the corner of his mouth and pressing a cold glass of beer to his left forearm. Roman watched the condensation trickle down Dean’s skin, Dean’s grin sharpened. Roman shook his head, his cock hardening anyway. Fuck, Dean was impossible, and Roman liked it.

 

Later, while locking up, Les laughed as he recalled the highlights of the night. Les only got really mad about Dean’s fights when stock got broken and to his credit, Dean never brawled behind the bar. He respected Les enough not to break the most expensive stuff and always used his fists rather than whatever was lying around. It was the kind of bar where fights were pretty much expected, to be honest, it was part of the place’s charm, so Les rarely looked put out by Dean’s actions. He cocked a knowing eyebrow at Roman.

 

“He gives this place color, doesn’t he?”

 

Roman thought about the splash of blood across Dean’s mouth, his snarl against Roman’s lips, his hands raking need and scorn across Roman’s skin. Yeah, color was a word for it. Whatever Roman’s expression was doing, it made Les laugh again.

 

*

 

There was a guy watching them from beside the pool table. Roman arched a brow as he cased the bar again, looking for any trouble that needed tending to but also taking in the guy with the bleached blond chunk that stood out like lightning in his otherwise black hair. He was playing a good enough game of pool, but he was also frequently staring at Dean and Roman.

 

“Scenery’s getting better,” Dean commented, handing someone their beer and change.

 

He leered towards Roman, fisting a hand tightly in Roman’s vest. Roman brushed fingers across Dean’s chest, catching his nipples accidentally-on-purpose and gaining a hissed appreciative curse from Dean whose hand became less of a fist and more of a caress. Even when they were arguing; Dean’s hands would gentle through Roman’s hair, his foot pressing against Roman’s leg, like he was marking something. It wasn’t like either of them were fucking other people, Dean scoffed at anyone trying to flirt with him while Roman was kinder to the people who approached him though he never pursued any of them. Frankly nobody else had interested him since the first time Dean had mashed their mouths together over a spilled bottle of vodka in the bar’s back room.

 

Something was definitely stirring when they looked at their admirer though, maybe because nobody had stared at both of them together like that before. Dean and Roman were infinitely different after all and any staring they'd received had never felt like this before, like the guy should be stared at too.

 

And Dean wasn’t sneering about it, he was smirking.

 

Roman pinched fingers at Dean’s wrist and Dean hauled him closer thanks to the benefit of surprise and kissed him messily with teeth and the kind of greedy triumphant noise that Roman knew spelled fantastic trouble. When they resurfaced, breathless and inky-eyed, Dean’s gaze darted over Roman’s shoulder. Of course. Roman looked too, the guy by the pool table looked like he was having trouble swallowing.

 

Roman shoved a hand to Dean’s cheek and then left to actually do some work on the other side of the room, taking a shift watching the dark corners near the back. He could feel a gaze watching him but he didn’t look back. This was going to take a little more assessment.

 

The guy left before closing, his gaze sweeping both Roman and Dean. Dean could barely wait to get Roman upstairs, blowing him on the staircase before getting impatient with the angle and his bad knees and dragging Roman all the way up to the room where a lopsided-looking bed awaited them. Roman could feel something burning through him as he shoved off his clothing and let Dean tackle him down onto the bed. He watched as Dean roughly fingered himself open before impatiently sliding down onto Roman’s cock.

 

They stared at each other, Dean kicking up a hard pace, Roman’s hands biting at Dean’s hips. Roman thought about the stranger's body, it had looked lithe and trim, like Dean’s. But there'd be differences, Roman liked the idea of learning them. There was room, wasn’t there? Between their arguments and bruises. There was room.

 

His orgasm hit him like a freight train, Dean followed not long after, cursing up a storm.

 

Fuck.

 

Dean slid off him and poked Roman until Roman shuffled across a bit and then just bodily dragged Dean up onto his chest. Dean let out a smug satisfied sound, Roman didn’t disagree. Okay then. If the stranger was interested, they clearly were. Dean squeezed his fingers around Roman’s for a moment like a promise.

 

*

 

The stranger was back the next night, Roman checked his ID at the door, drinking in all the details he could. The guy looked amused at Roman’s interest. Roman glanced up sharply.

 

“Seth Rollins.”

 

“Good to know it hasn’t changed,” Seth replied, his eyes paying close attention to Roman.

 

Roman hmmed and when Seth grabbed hold of his ID, Roman used it to pull him a little closer. Seth let out a surprised breath and his eyes openly raked Roman’s face. Roman’s thoughts flashed to the image that he’d had of Seth in bed with him and Dean and a smile slowly possessed his expression. He let go of the ID.

 

“See you in there.”

 

Seth looked like he was trying to work something out but he stepped inside the bar without another word. Roman worked the door for a while longer and then followed Seth in. The bar was busy and there was Seth, near the pool table again, taking on someone for what looked like an impressive roll of bills. Roman smirked; he’d fucked Dean right up against that corner pocket.

 

Seth was wearing all black, making his bleached chunk of hair stand out even more. Dean was grabbing empties from tables, exchanging insults with regulars and bumping fists with the few that he actually didn’t sneer at until he reached Roman’s side. His face was slick with sweat and his hair was curling everywhere as he leaned heavily against Roman. Roman took his weight easily.

 

“Seth Rollins,” he reported quietly, tipping his chin towards Seth.

 

Dean’s eyebrows arched in pleasure. “Seth.”

 

He said it like a song lyric, like something he was going to have fun with. Roman smacked him on the thigh and Dean’s laugh rang out as he headed towards the bartop where the glasses would hopefully survive the sink.

 

Roman didn’t get a chance to talk to Seth again because Seth slipped out the door when both Roman and Dean were occupied elsewhere. Dean frowned, looking insulted.

 

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

 

Seth came in the next night though and the one after that. He actually went up to the bar to order a drink from Dean. Roman watched as Dean became all hard and sharp lines, his jaw tense like he wanted to shout because Dean did not react well to being ignored. Roman glowered at a man who was trying to pocket someone’s wallet; the man shrank away and made for the door. Roman inclined his head and the bouncer on duty took care of him.

 

Dean was still talking to Seth, his face intense, his hands clamped around Seth’s wrist, pressing it down onto the bartop. Seth didn’t look freaked out though, he looked like he was listening. He still disappeared before the end of the night though.

 

“What did you tell him?” Roman later demanded, Dean caged between his arms and pressed up against the rough brickwork that surrounded the bar’s backdoor.

 

Dean snarled, his leg kicking out like he wanted to beat the shit out of Roman and arch against him too.

 

“The razor’s fucking edge,” he spat out like a challenge.

 

Roman ground his teeth and leaned in further to mark up Dean’s throat, opening the buttons of Dean’s pants one-handed. Dean clawed at Roman’s back in response, introducing welcome lines of pain. The marks would be there the next day; they’d sting in the shower. Roman would be able to feel them as he went about his day. He sucked another mark onto Dean’s throat.

 

It really didn’t feel like enough now.

 

*

 

Seth didn’t appear the next night but he was back later that week, his leather jacket zipped up and his hair pulled back into a slipknot bun. He stared at Dean like it was a contest and Dean curled his lip in response. Roman couldn’t take his eyes off Seth, he’d never even touched the man but the idea of Seth not being there, staring from some opaque corner, made Roman’s skin prickle. Lately he and Dean had been even crabbier than usual with each other; Les had already threatened to split them up by scheduling them in different bars. He owned a couple across town and had reminded Roman that he liked a splash of color but not a bloodbath. Yeah.

 

Dean probably felt it too, he glared at Seth until abruptly, about an hour until the bar was due to close and only a couple of people were left apart from Seth, Roman headed to the bathroom and Dean stalked in after him.

 

Roman stared at Dean in the mirror. Dean stared back, then he was on Roman, trying to strip off his black vest. They hadn’t fucked since that night outside and Roman felt a feverish jolt of want and frustration, with Dean, with Seth, with everything. He buried a hand in Dean’s hair and thought about hoisting him up onto the sink. Between them they hadn't been able to verbalize Seth but they could do this.

 

Dean was scrabbling to get inside Roman’s pants when the door creaked open. They both paused and watched as Seth walked in, his eyes widening at what he saw. Roman’s breaths felt labored and Dean was gripping him hard enough to bruise. Seth didn't back out of the room with fumbled apologies though, he just looked sort of rueful and aroused and his eyes were bright with something.

 

“I’m-.”

 

“You’re not sorry,” Dean interrupted, the bite clear in his voice, his smile sharp, like a switchblade.

 

Roman watched as Seth’s mouth twitched. Les had to have told him not to use the bathroom unless he wanted an eyeful, and yet here he was. Roman tilted his head and angled his body in clear invitation.

 

Seth raised an eyebrow. “You guys aren't...?”

 

The way he was eying Dean revealed a lot about the conversation they’d had at the bar a few nights back. Roman snorted, because he and Dean were so many things.

 

“Sure,” he said simply, his own challenge to match Dean’s.

 

Seth looked at him for a long moment and then unzipped his jacket. It sounded incredibly loud. Roman’s cock shuddered and Dean began working on Roman’s pants again.

 

“Come on, _fuck_.”

 

A second pair of hands joined in; Roman left them to it and fisted Seth’s hair, drawing his face closer. Seth stared back, the heat that had present out in the bar felt even clearer now, like a punch to the gut. This guy had talked to Dean, had seen Dean and Roman at work and scrabbling at each other, and still wanted in. Roman kissed him; Seth groaned loudly and kissed back, his mouth furiously greedy.

 

Dean’s hand circled Roman’s cock with a little more pressure than necessary, grabbing Roman’s attention. He grunted out of the kiss and yanked Dean in by his belt without even looking. Dean was probably trying not to pout or snarl something really ill-advised at Seth, who was looking amused, interested and only slightly wary. Dean poured everything into kissing Roman, like he was trying to claw his way into Roman’s body, like he wanted Seth to  _know_ what they were. Seth’s hands carefully touched them both, before Dean pulled out of his kiss with Roman and into one with Seth.

 

There was a loud clatter as a soap dispenser hit the floor; it'd been wobbly for weeks and hadn't stood a chance once Seth had started leaning on it for leverage. Seth didn't even pause; he just kept on kissing Dean, rucking his vest up with one hand. He had his priorities right.

 

There was a loud knock at the door followed by Les calling through, “You're paying for that.”

 

“Fuck you,” Dean called back.

 

Les just laughed because he'd meant what he'd said. He was also wordlessly warning them that lock-up was imminent because he wouldn’t have knocked otherwise. Jesus, had they been in the bathroom that long? Roman glanced in the mirror again, it provided a great image. He set about making it even better, biting a mark on Seth's shoulder, planning on working his way across Seth's neck and then down his collarbone to his chest. That way Seth would have acres of tender skin to remind him of what’d happened, just in case he started thinking about not coming back to the bar.

 

There was a pointed rattle of the door handle. Dean glared, easing out of his kiss with Seth to look down at the fallen soap dispenser like he was thinking of throwing it. Roman pointedly rested a hand at the nape of Dean's neck and rolled his eyes upward – they had a bed upstairs, didn't they? Seth was panting against Roman's throat now, his pupils blowing wide when he drew back. Roman reluctantly let go of them both, sparsely buttoning up his pants. Dean didn't both redressing much, his vest stayed half off. He looked at Seth.

 

“So?”

 

It was another challenge and Seth's grin glinted like a bunch of private jokes. “So what?”

 

Dean's laugh was a bark and he shoved an arm around Seth to propel him out of the room. The bar was empty now and there were a lot of clanking glass sounds coming from the back room, probably due to Les. Drake was wiping down the bar; he just shook his head when they ducked past him towards the back staircase.

 

They managed to make it upstairs and into the room that Dean called home before pouncing on each other again, shedding and tearing away clothes. Dean nearly tripped over his own pants twice but grabbed hold of Roman and then mouths and hands seemed to be everywhere at once. Dean and Roman knew each other well but also knew that they really wanted Seth as well.

 

“Did you plan this?” muttered Dean into Seth's shoulder. “All that fucking watching?”

 

Seth somehow managed to shake his head while craning his neck to give Dean better access while his hands ran up and down Roman's chest.

 

“Just...just liked what I saw.”

 

Roman knew that feeling. He reached down to palm Seth's cock and when Seth gasped and ground against Roman greedily, Dean got a filthy look on his face. Without explanation, he ducked down behind Seth. There was lotion under the pillow, Roman heard the lid snap open and then Seth pushed forward, a low sound rising out of him, telling Roman everything he needed to know. Dean was using his fingers, he'd probably start using his tongue in a minute too, he was very good with both, messy but fucking thorough.

 

Dean lobbed the bottle towards Roman. The three of them crowded onto the bed together, with various limbs trailing off it worked well enough. Roman poured lotion onto his hand, enjoying the view as Seth moved with Dean's ministrations, his back bowed and his hair completely loose from its tie. His mouth was open and moving silently now, his face pursed in something like hungry pleasure. Roman pinched one of Seth's nipples with his dry hand, assessing how Seth reacted, wanting to learn where he was most responsive. Then Roman dripped lotion onto his other hand and curled sizeable fingers around both their cocks.

 

Between Dean’s fine work and Roman’s ruthless pace, Seth came rapidly. Roman almost followed but stopped himself, gripping the base of his own cock with a gritted-out groan. Dean emerged from behind Seth, not bothering to wipe his fingers clean as he jostled Seth aside and shoved at Roman’s shoulder. Roman eased down obligingly and wrapped his still-wet hand around Dean’s cock. Dean breathed in sharply; Seth was watching them both, drifting close like he wasn’t sure if they wanted his input or not.

 

Roman grabbed one of Seth’s hands, their fingers joining around Dean’s cock. Dean bit out another curse and started blindly feeling around, probably for a condom. Roman snagged one from the cluttered bedside unit and tore it open, sliding it onto Dean with practiced ease. He flipped the lotion towards Seth, another challenge to add to the list. Seth arched his eyebrows but heat was clear in his expression and Dean dragged him closer.

 

“Not done.”

 

Dean’s impatience made Seth laugh and he supplied lotion for both of them so that they could begin working Roman open together. Roman hissed, it’d been a couple of weeks, but he soon relaxed into it. He could hear Seth and Dean kissing as they each pressed another finger in. He and Dean had been right about Seth, fuck yes.

 

Roman pushed down, cut-off growls oozing out of him. Dean was good at this and so was Seth, he wasn’t being careless but he was _eager_. He watched close and intent as Dean lifted one of Roman’s legs and began sliding possessively in. Roman shifted to get comfortable and then braced himself because Dean wasn’t going to go slow, not tonight. Sometimes, they fucked for hours, Dean refusing to speed up and Roman feeling liquid with pleasure as each minute passed.

 

It wasn’t going to be like that, not this time. Dean started drawing out and then in again, hard and unerring, his fingers digging into Roman one minute, then petting him the next. Seth kissed Roman’s chest with a questioning slant, Roman gripped Seth’s hair by way of encouragement and nudged him towards Dean’s cock. Seth’s grin was sharp enough to cut glass.

 

He didn’t move towards Dean immediately though, he kept on kissing Roman’s chest instead, setting his teeth around Roman’s nipples and biting Roman’s chin before occupying Roman’s mouth for a while. Dean upped his pace, choosing a brutal rhythm which suited Roman. He pushed back, giving Dean something to move against. Dean turned his face to bite at Roman’s knee, at the place that always made Roman close his eyes and groan.

 

When he opened them again, he got to see Seth swallow down Dean's cock with visible relish.

 

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck_!”

 

Seth chuckled around Dean’s length and took the hard pace that Dean was setting. From the way Dean was curling his mouth and fisting Seth’s hair, Seth was more than holding his own. Roman stared at the image in front of him; Seth connected to Dean connected to him. He stared until his orgasm seemed to come out of nowhere but also like it hadn’t come quickly enough. He was aware of Dean coming too, smearing kisses across Roman’s knee, digging his teeth in and panting until he pulled out and stripped the condom off, tossing it vaguely towards the bucket that doubled as a trashcan.

 

Seth had apparently swallowed without protest though he wiped his hand across his mouth, checking that his beard was clear, his expression wrinkling. Dean patted Seth’s shoulder vaguely.

 

“Nice catch.”

 

He collapsed on top of Roman, absently kissing the skin that his face was currently smashed against. Roman scratched fingers across Dean’s scalp, Seth watched them for a moment and then, when no one told him to leave, dropped down to make himself comfortable beside Roman. Dean slung an arm across Seth, effectively bracketing him in, and Roman nosed around for Seth’s mouth, exchanging long drowsy kisses with him until all three of them fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Roman woke up to find his mouth full of Seth’s hair and Dean snoring under his chin. His gut was happy with his position, so were other parts of him. And as Dean hadn’t kicked Seth out at the crack of dawn, he clearly felt something around the same way.

 

When Seth woke up, he told them through a yawn that he had to get to the gym – there was a CrossFit class he was supposed to be teaching in an hour. He revealed that he’d been working at the same gym for years now and loved it. Roman made a mental note to drop in there sometime; he hadn’t found a decent place to work out since his old gym had closed down weeks ago.

 

The silence that settled around them wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, in fact it felt more like waiting. Then Dean pushed himself up, kissing Roman and slapping his thigh before looking over towards Seth.

 

“Hope you like your breakfast liquid.”

 

The next challenge. Did Seth want to stay? And if he left, would he be coming back? Seth reached out a hand and tugged on a chunk of Roman’s hair, his leg curled around Dean and his expression contemplative before it became wicked and selfish.

 

Roman looked at the marks he’d left all over Seth’s neck, he wanted to leave more. He didn’t have to look at Dean because Dean was kneading Roman’s thigh, his hand already moving higher. Roman remembered how Seth had looked with his mouth around Dean’s cock and how he had kissed Roman’s chest. He’d look even better between them.

 

Heat must have shown on Roman’s face because Seth’s grip on Roman’s hair tightened.

 

They ended up getting breakfast burritos a couple of doors down from the bar. Dean shouted for ketchup, sucked grease off Roman’s thumb and swooped in to lick at the corner of Seth’s mouth. Seth did something under the table that made Dean’s knee clatter hard against it. Nice.

 

When they parted for the day, Dean stole Seth’s jacket. Seth shoved his hair off his face with an annoyed sigh so Roman pulled a hair-tie off his own wrist and offered it like half-serious compensation. Seth took it without hesitation.

 

“You gonna braid each other’s hair?” asked Dean, a few steps behind and already itching to see to the bar.

 

“Probably,” Roman replied.

 

He was good with his hands and he did like Seth’s hair. Seth’s smile was warm and speculative.

 

That night, Seth turned up at the bar wearing black and white, his smile smug and successful. His hair was loose and Roman’s hair-elastic was pointedly looped around his wrist. When he tilted his head, Roman could see that someone, probably Seth himself, had pulled a chunk of Seth’s hair into a half-assed braid. Oh, that was definitely a challenge.

 

Dean was already pouring Seth a drink. He was wearing Seth’s jacket.

 

_-the end_


End file.
